They seem to collectively grasp what he's been through and the implications of his confession and while his actions weren't right, the context matters:not as an excuse, but as an explanation that allows for potential growth rather than permanent condemnation.
Warren remains kneeling before me, pride momentarily set aside in his quest for absolution.
The proud bodyguard reduced to supplicant, the protector acknowledging his own capacity for causing harm. He awaits my judgment, my decision about whether his past actions can be forgiven, whether he might earn a place in our future battles.
I guess I shouldn’t be too harsh…
"I'll forgive you," I begin finally, my voice emerging stronger and more authoritative than I expected given my still-healing condition.
The words hang in the air for a moment before I continue.
"On a few conditions."
Warren's posture straightens slightly, attention sharpening at the prospect of specific requirements rather than outright rejection.
The reaction proves he is not only attentive to what I’m about to propose but is serious about earning my trust —and eventually my love —once again.
"One, you will go to therapy," I state firmly, the condition non-negotiable despite whatever protests he might raise.
Then, because something in me can't resist the particular twist of the knife, I add with deliberate casualness, "With Theo."
The visible cringe that crosses Warren's features at the mention of Theo's name is so comically genuine that I can't suppress a snicker. The reaction humanizes him in a way few things have managed, transforming the stoic soldier into someone who can be thrown off-balance by interpersonal complications like any other mortal.
"Why do I feel like that's going to be impossible?" Marcus comments dryly from his position by the fireplace, breaking his silence with unexpected humor.
Warren sighs, shoulders slumping slightly in resignation.
"Theo..." he begins, a wealth of complicated history contained in that single name, "is probably the most complicated Savage Heir you'd ever meet, and though I have no problem going with him, the chances of him coming along would be slim."
Zander mutters from his position by the window.
"He acted like a pretty jackass when he wasn't getting his way." His voice carries that particular blend of disdain and grudging respect he reserves for those who manage to impress and irritate him simultaneously.
"True," Ren agrees with a lazy smirk, stretching his long limbs before adding, "but then again, I guess he's actually in love with Aries, so makes sense." The casual observation carries significant implications, contextualizing Theo's hostility as something more complex than simple territorialism.
Marcus looks confused, his brows drawing together as he processes this new information. The reaction makes sense—he doesn't know Aries as well, or probably met Theo aside from the short instance when Zander almost perished in the alleyway and then with me during our brief encounters.
Warren shifts his weight slightly, still kneeling but with less rigid formality now that the initial confession has passed.
"Theo and my relationship is complicated," he admits, the understatement drawing a soft snort from Ren that Warren ignores. "It's more impulsive than a committed relationship that will flourish into something more than driven emotion and chaos."
His fingers flex against his thigh, a subtle tell betraying inner conflict as he continues.
"We haven't healed from Iris and I'm not sure if Theo ever will, but I have the intention of changing and committing to Verena." His eyes lift to mine, sincere in a way that makes my chest tighten unexpectedly. "So if that means going to therapy or having to cut him off in the end, I will."
Something in his willingness to sacrifice a relationship that clearly matters to him—however complicated—touches me in ways I hadn't anticipated. This isn't just about earning a place among my Kings anymore; this is about genuine transformation on this path of choosing a different route forward regardless of personal cost.
I shake my head, surprising myself almost as much as him with my next words.
"You don't need to cut Theo off," I say, watching Warren's eyes widen slightly in response. "Nor do I actually mind you continuing whatever 'ship' you have with one another."
My Kings exchange subtle glances, surprise evident in their expressions though they maintain careful silence as I continue.
"As long as Theo isn't invited into our ruthless sanctuary, that's fine, because I don't know the extent of what you've gone through with one another and it feels unfair to ask for 100% commitment when you haven't healed from your own trauma."
The statement hangs in the air, weighted with implications none of us fully articulated until this moment. Because I'm notjust offering forgiveness—I'm acknowledging the complexity of human connections, the way past and present relationships can coexist without necessarily diminishing each other.
All of them seem surprised by my statement, exchanging glances that carry varying degrees of confusion and assessment. Matteo's absence in this moment feels significant—his calculating precision would have provided a valuable counterpoint to the emotional currents now flowing through the room.
